Simple in Theory
by PhoenixDragonDreamer
Summary: When you think 'flying' you think vehicle, controls, meeting the sky in an explosion of soundless speed; air whipping past you filled with the scent of adrenaline, the tang of freedom and lawlessness pressed to your skin.


**Warnings:** Spoilers up to S07E05 (TATM), Introspection, Angst, Character Study  
**A/N:** Written for **who_at_50**'s _**Flash Fiction Comment-a-thon Round 2**_, comprised of my usual overly thinky ramblings. Standard wandery-blithery within (youse has been warned) fun to write, but incomprehensible (I'm sure). Mostly unbeta'd and written in one go (with only the mildest of tweaking), so please forgive any mistakes and/or blatant vagueness. As always, I apologize for any repetition, mispellings, sentence fails, grammatical oh-noes and general horridness. Unbeta'd fic is overly-thinky/blithery and unbeta'd.

**Disclaimer(s): **_I do not own the scrumptious Doctor or his lovely companions. That honor goes to the BBC and (for now) the fantastic S. Moffat. The only thing that belongs to me is this fiction - and I am making no profit. Only playing about!_

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When you think 'flying' you think vehicle, controls, meeting the sky in an explosion of soundless speed; air whipping past you filled with the scent of adrenaline, the tang of freedom and lawlessness pressed to your skin.

To be sure, so long ago he had thought the same thing. Push a button, pull a lever and 'hey presto!' (Geronimo) - you attain flight. The mechanics were simple enough, even for one who failed the temporal version of such mechanics a millennia ago just yesterday. When things were simple.

At least...that was what he had told himself. Things had never truly been simple. Not then, not now. Flight (in theory) was much simpler for him after all that time: achieved with a known routine (console changes not withstanding), hardly a thought as he pressed those buttons, pulled that lever, typed those coordinates.

Then again, no matter what he pressed, pulled, typed - it really made no difference. She always knew where to go, regardless of his fumbling at Her systems. He may have been the 'pilot' but his Old Girl held the reins - he was along for the ride in the end.

That sounded bitter.

But what else did he have but bitterness? All was lost to him. All he had was Her. And all those centuries of flight, of running...it was for nothing. He always lost - and he'd never had the reins. He had never mastered flight, even as he never had to think on his actions at the console.

He had never thought on his actions.

That too, sounded bitter. But it truly wasn't. He still had Her. His first action (escape) was his best one - he had to believe that. He knew nothing about flying when he took Her (when She stole him and ran away to see the stars); in many ways he was still learning. Even all these centuries later he was still learning.

He pushed that button, pulled that lever, pressed in the right coordinates and landed where She deemed fit. These days he had room for nothing but bitterness. Pain. Loss. Even as he stroked Her console, felt the mild whisper of Her through his mind, he was still alone. He had Her (or She had him), he _always_ had Her. But sometimes he needed something more. Sometimes he needed someone to fly _with_.

Actually, he always did. But he was an old man, he needed his illusions. His mask(s). His Girl gave him much - She was always taking care of him. But there were some things She couldn't give, some things even She couldn't achieve (holding his hand and runningrunningrunning), but She gave him much more than he ever thought possible when he first stumbled through Her doors. She gave all of Herself that She possibly could - and he feared the day when She would be no longer.

A day he hoped was a long way away. He couldn't imagine flying without Her. He could never be free without his Girl, such a part of him that he didn't know where he ended and She began.

How could that not be enough? It should be enough. But it wasn't...even for all they loved each other, depended on one another - it wasn't enough.

That truly was the secret to flight in the end. The vehicle was just a vehicle. The controls were just the controls. Flight could never really be achieved unless it was shared. It was the first lesson he learned - and one that took a long, long time and a War that never truly ended to truly drive the idea home. He may have lost them all - but he'd had them to lose. The pain was always sharp, but he could still feel that pain. The pain was there to be had because of what he had to lose still, even as he turned away from it.

There was another lesson there, he was sure of it.

He missed them, his Ponds. She did too, he could feel it. And one day, all too soon, he would miss _her_ - the last Pond left and the Song that should never have to end (though she already had). They had shown him what centuries with his Girl had not: yes, flight was better with a friend. It could only truly be achieved with someone standing beside you. But it was finally, fully achieved when it was with those you love. With family.

But in a sense, weren't they all family in the end?

Maybe another lesson in that.

But one that could wait for tomorrow. And for all his current bitterness, loneliness and pain - he rather looked forward to that lesson. The Ponds (all of them) would have happily told him to go and learn it. They always knew better than he did.

She always knew better than he did. She knew _him_. And together they could still see the Universe - the TARDIS and the Time Lord. They would find the next person to be their own. They wouldn't be the Ponds - but then there was only one Rose, one Martha, one Jo and one Sarah Jane, too. They gave him pain, but they had also given him love. Love for him and his Girl - and with their combined memory, they would never really lose them. That's how they would give back. That's how they would show them they truly loved them, too.

But maybe...not today.

Today it was just him and his Girl. And while that was (most times) not enough - today it would have to be. Today, they had to learn how to fly without their family. Today they would have to learn the secret without a hand to hold. Find a new way to fly.

He braced himself on the console and toggled the last lever, feeling his feet come away from the floor for a split second with the gravity shift as She leaped into the vortex. It wasn't truly flying, but then - in so many ways - he was never truly lonely, was he?

"Where are we going today, Old Girl?" He asked, still feeling the warmth of their hands in his. He didn't get an answer, but he never really needed one.

_Take me away and show me the stars._

She would get him where he needed to go. Together (even as crippled as they were) they would try to fly.

Maybe this time, they would finally learn how.


End file.
